


Witch's Brew

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), swan queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:00:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: Visiting Emma on Halloween, Regina is eventually persuaded to come in for a potent homemade cocktail and a movie. When things on screen get a little heated, the tension is tangible as both women know there's something equally dangerous growing between them. The question is, should they give in to temptation and explore...





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A little last minute experiment as a result of several beers. I'd wanted to do another Halloween SQ fic for the last couple of years since my last one but always missed the boat, so I decided to give up on trying to finish work and other adult things that I should be doing to see what I could come up with :) Hopefully it's as fun to read as it was to write! Enjoy :) And please review!

Stalking up the steps to Emma's front door, Regina offers the pumpkin that glows to the side a cursory glance. There's another very similar back at her mansion, but it appears Henry has roped the blonde in on the one flickering beside the dead daffodils the Sheriff has yet to dispose of, as she doubts Henry will have been the one to have come up with having the jolly jack'o'lantern spewing out its insides over the top step.

Knocking lightly on the door, she takes a hasty step back when she's greeted by a hideous deformity of a shrieking soul; catching her breath as this nasty surprise is followed by husky laughter- muffled by latex- that she recognises all too well.

"A little childish?"

She snaps, and the blonde pulls off the mask to reveal slightly smudged gore makeup underneath.

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

Emma grins, tossing the mask on the small table where she keeps her keys and her gun.

"Hmm."

The brunette sniffs, and she invites herself in without being told.

"Where's Henry?"

She asks, having thought he would be here with the blonde to celebrate an evening she has never personally understood the appeal of. Emma turns to her midway through stalking down the hallway- the fake blood splattering her cheeks giving her a rather ghoulish quality- and bites her lip. The Mayor sighs; knowing that expression all too well.

"What? What's up?"

"Ok, don't be mad. At least not with  _me_! Henry told me he was leaving to go to yours, and I'll guess he told you he was coming to see me?"

"I've not seen him since breakfast, but I presumed he'd be here. Where on earth _is_  he?"

Regina frets with tangible alarm, but from the way the blonde seems rather more concerned about getting into trouble than she is their son's safety, the Mayor deduces that the younger woman must have  _some_  clue where the boy has gotten to.

"Relax, Hook went to go get them once I figured something was fishy. He's taken them to the boat for some ghost stories and cider.  _Not_  the potent kind!"

"Them? Who's  _them_?"

"Henry and Violet."

"What?!"

"Hey, it's ok. They were here until about an hour ago, but... You know...  _Teenagers_. But everything while they were raiding my cupboards and looting my wardrobe was strictly PG, and he's a good kid."

"Hmm... He did _lie_  to me.  _And_  you."

Regina points out, before remarking haughtily

"And not  _all_  of us were quite so rebellious and troublesome when we were younger."

"Riiiight. You know, before you go saying things like that, I might remind you that I've read a book that says otherwise."

The blonde grins, and dark eyes roll as Regina follows the younger woman into her kitchen where high calorie treats packed with sugar explode across the table.

"And Henry is always so _vague_  about why he likes to stop by and see you."

The Mayor grumbles, but not without a hint of amusement as she watches Emma feed orange centred Oreos into her mouth in quick succession.

"Hmm?"

Green eyes shrouded with a heavy bruised effect widen innocently, and Regina shakes her head.

"You're impossible."

She laments, before fetching herself a glass and filling it with water without any prompt or offer from her host. The blonde doesn't even seem to process this fact; much too used to the Queen showing up and making herself at home, both when she'd lived with her parents, and since moving to her own place.

"So Hook's left you in favour of playing babysitter?"

The brunette asks, surprised at this chivalrous act on behalf of the pirate as she would imagine he'd have wanted to spend the evening with the blonde on one of the few occassions where she is guaranteed to be in a generous- and slightly giddy- mood. Emma simply shrugs, pointing out

"Well, it made no sense for  _both_  of us to go, and Henry's heard all  _my_  ghost stories."

"Ah yes, and of course s _omeone_  had to stay around here to man the candy."

The brunette scoffs, and the Sheriff offers her a shit-eating grin and nods.

"Yup. Help yourself."

"I think not, dear."

"Suit yourself. Were you just here to see Henry?"

Emma asks, and the brunette sighs but is able to keep the irritation that had once crept up in her at this sort of remark at bay. She enjoys the blonde's company and imagines Emma is fully aware of this, but there is a part of her that maintains a verbal inability to just treat the Sheriff openly as a friend. She's fairly sure that the younger woman is aware of _this_  also, and finds it to be very amusing.

"I was hoping to catch him, but not for anything important."

She shrugs, leaving the fact that she'd been fairly bored at home an unsaid fact that they both probably the know. Since Robin's passing, she has spent increasingly more time with the blonde, but at first when asked- innocently enough- by Emma what she might want, she'd been unable to keep from feeling deeply irritated. Now, she understands that it is not a dismissive gesture on the younger woman's part to ask her what she wants, but rather one of trying to be helpful, and she keeps her temper accordingly.

"Cool. Do you want a drink? I have cocktails."

The Sheriff grins, and the Mayor rises to the bait mostly out of simple intrigue and follows her into the living room. She spies the bowl of suspiciously green punch that sits beside the blonde's record player with an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.

"What is _that?_ "

"Witch's brew."

Emma informs smugly, ladling herself a glass and fetching a clean one which she tops up to the brim for her guest.

"Well, that's what they internet says, anyway. It's actually a mix of vodka, rum and midori; kind of sickly, but festive."

"It sounds  _lethal_."

The brunette frowns, studying her glass warily.

"I've survived so far."

The blonde grins, stalking over to the sofa and flopping down. She's wearing pyjama shorts, and the brunette scolds herself silently as the old and familiar warmth that sometimes creeps low in the stomach when around the Sheriff awakens with a flash of pale thigh. A second later, her view is obscured as Emma pulls a throw over herself and smiles obliviously.

"The eyeballs in there are actually lychees."

She explains, and Regina glances back towards the bowl and at the suspect white orbs that float grotesquely on the surface.

"Delightful, dear."

She shudders, taking a seat beside the blonde and gesturing towards the television where a scene depicting a row of ballerinas remains frozen.

"What were you watching?"

She asks curiously; not having pegged Emma as one for ballet, dance, or anything else in that cultural realm.

"Black Swan."

The blonde replies, before pulling a face when met with the Mayor's syrupy smirk.

"It's supposed to be a good movie. I'm not watching it because of the  _name_."

"Ah, but your defensiveness is so delightfully tragic."

Regina teases, sipping at her drink and shuddering as it goes down with a potency she'd suspect more indicative of battery acid.

"Good god, why not just add food colouring to ethanol!?"

"Next year."

Emma grins, pressing play to set the dancers into motion. She lowers the volume a little as they chat amiably over the top, each glancing at the screen now and then between small talk and gentle bickering that has become second nature.

_You and the Mayor are like a married couple sometimes, Swan_

Hook has told the blonde on several occasions, each time with a hint of sullen irritation, and that accusation occurs to the Sheriff now as she teases the brunette for her distaste at her makeup and she blushes. She supposes- much as she has always vehemently _argued_  the fact- that there might be some truth to it. Hell, she'd been walking with the Mayor towards her parents house the other day, and Regina had stopped mid sentence to sigh dramatically and reach over to fix the collar of her jacket with the low mutter of 'honestly...'. She imagines it's things like this- and the brunette possessing the uncanny ability to know what she might be in the mood for when stopping by with the amiable offer of a drink- that rubs Hook up the wrong way.

"Oh, did I tell you-..."

But Regina trails off, looking at the screen where a dark and heady scene between the two main characters heats up swiftly. Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she glances surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye at Emma who watches the action with a raised brow but an otherwise carefully neutral expression. The silence that has fallen between them is like a living thing, leaving just the wet sound of crashing lips to fill the room; obscenely loud.

"What the hell is this movie _about_?"

The brunette finally asks to break the tension, aware that her voice cracks a little, and hoping the blonde doesn't notice.

Emma does.

"Well, she wants to play the lead in swan lake, but the other girl, Nina, is also fit for the role."

The younger woman explains vaguely, not looking away from the screen. A part of her wants to call Regina out on what is going unsaid between them; that neither of them had been expecting a hot and heavy sapphic scene and are thrown by it. She'd tell her that they're both adults and not to be so flustered by the simple depiction of sex. It's not a big deal.

 _But it's_  not _simple. It's not, because there's that thing- that pull- that we both know exists and will never mention. It's_ not _that simple because both of us are sat here acutely aware that it's girls making out on the screen, and that we're both girls sat here watching. There's a_ reason _we're aware... It's just neither of us will ever_ further _that strange reason into words._

When the scene breaks away to depict the girls once more clothed and no longer writhing, the breath of relief that escapes the Mayor's lips is audible. They continue watching while under a veil of awkward tension, and eventually Emma sighs and digs between them for the remote.

"It's not as interesting as I thought it was going to be."

She excuses lamely, before stating a little more boldly

"And it's a pretty tame movie for Halloween. Want to switch over to a horror?"

She asks hopefully, not bothering to ask Regina if she'd actually been planning to stick around but rather simply assuming that she will as she often does. Especially when Hook is out elsewhere.

 _Yeah, that's_ another _matter of contention... Oops._

"I doubt I do..."

The brunette muses apprehensively, but in all honesty, it's just a relief to have the movie with all its terrifying and forbidden connotations shut off.

"I dunno, wait 'til you see what I have to offer you."

Emma winks, and the Mayor purses her lips as her mind decides to take this promise in an entirely inappropriate direction.

"I won't hold my breath."

She taunts snidely, but the blonde seems undeterred as she slips from beneath the throw to root around in the cupboard beneath the television. In doing so, she bends over with her ass out, and Regina wonders at what age it's really _appropriate_  to still wear shorts as scantily cut as the Sheriff favours now.

_Well, I imagine for as long as one remains looking so good in them..._

"Well?"

She prompts impatiently, telling herself to divert her gaze elsewhere and failing.

"Hang on, hang on, it's fallen behind the Harry Potter box set."

"You're such a  _child_."

"Hey, I got them for Henry."

"You did  _not_ , they came over with the rest of your stuff from Boston. You can't lie to _me_ , Miss Swan."

Regina scolds, and Emma sniggers as she finally straightens up with a DVD held victoriously in her hand.

"Hmm, maybe a premonition?"

"Hmm, or maybe utter crap."

The brunette scoffs, narrowing her eyes as she studies the front of the movie Emma holds out to her.

"Snow White- A Tale Of Terror..."

She reads, injecting her tone with disdain but unable to hide a small shadow of a smirk.

"I've haven't seen it, but I found it in a box of old stuff the other day and thought of you."

The blonde grins, sticking her tongue out impishly.

The Mayor wishes she wouldn't do that just now.

"Well, I can tell you're practically  _wetting_  yourself with anticipation, so I suppose I'll agree to watch it."

She sighs, and the younger woman flashes her teeth viciously and slips the DVD into the player.

The movie is old, and predictably not very good. It's vaguely amusing though, and the delicious comedy that exists for just the two of them knowing what they know about the true story of Snow White lends a chuckle here and there. At some point early on, Emma gets up to top up their glasses, despite Regina telling her not to. The Mayor's declination doesn't go so far as to stop her from  _drinking_  the offering the blonde brings disobediently back to her, and when the younger woman gets up to top them up for a third time- ever so slightly unsteady on her feet- the brunette raises no qualms.

Trying to watch the movie that's currently playing rather than thinking about the previous one and its compromising scene, they talk and drink and slip ever more casually into each other on the sofa. Sipping at her glass with lips slightly numb from the alcohol, Regina plucks at the blonde's shorts that now brush up against her thigh.

"Honestly, do you make a  _habit_  of answering the door half naked?"

She asks, vaguely aware that this is a dangerous way for the conversation to be headed, but not able to stop herself. She maintains a certain note of arrogance to her tone, and so hopes Emma is unable to detect how deliciously free she really feels. The blonde looks down to where the darker woman's finger remains hooked into the hem of her shorts, but she makes no move to push her away.

"A habit? Do I?"

She asks curiously, and the brunette nods; dark eyes remaining cast down to flimsy navy cotton and bare skin.

"I'd say so. When you first came here, you answered the door of your room at Granny's to me in your underwear."

"Huh."

Emma frowns, vaguely recalling the situation Regina refers to and surprised that the Mayor remembers.

_And a little intrigued..._

"I guess you caught me off guard."

"Hmm...  _Generally_ , people let their guests wait while they make themselves _decent_  rather than feel the need to see to them immediately. And it's not as though good manners were something you were  _otherwise_  all that fastidious about."

"Oh, bite me. My manners are fine."

The blonde huffs, sticking her tongue out to lap childishly at her drink and smirking when this garners her an eye roll.

"We'll agree to disagree."

Regina sighs, having yet to remove her finger from the hem of the younger woman's shorts, her knuckles resting against the hot flesh of the Sheriff's upper thigh.

"We can't  _all_  be perfect, Regina."

Emma teases, and the brunette laughs lightly as she drinks in the alluring darkness of the blonde's Halloween makeup and the macabre spatter of fake blood that freckles her nose.

"I suppose not."

She replies, and the Sheriff swallows as there is a husky quality to the darker woman's voice that suggests an alluring way this might be going.

 _Don't be ridiculous, it's fucking_ Regina _! She's not going to-_

-But all thought ceases when the Mayor  _does_.

The fingers caught in soft cotton move further up and open out as the Mayor slides her hand deeper beneath the confines of the younger woman's shorts to rest against the sharp peak of her hip.

Dark eyes meet green intently as the air between them seems alive with electricity.

Regina keeps her hand where it is and stays silent; daring Emma to go ahead and call her out on her bold move if she's going to do it. She doesn't think that the blonde will, recalling the hungry way the blonde had remained fixated on the scene that had put all of this into motion, and she's proven right when rather than raise any sort of alarm, the younger woman leans in to taste her.

The meticulously maintained fragile mantle of control shatters between them, and what had been an initially daring yet tense kiss becomes open, wet and wanting. The fingers resting against hidden skin explore dangerously and dig in to pert flesh with a beautiful cruelty, as the Sheriff pushes back and climbs on top of the woman that had once sought to destroy her. Straddling slender thighs aggressively, Emma pulls demandingly at the the soft wool of the brunette's sweater, wondering for just a moment if Regina might draw the line, before the Mayor interrupts their heated clashing of lips just long enough to pull both her sweater and shirt up over her head to land beside them on the couch. Groaning as this act is rewarded with a promising grind of the blonde's hips, it occurs to her somewhere in the back of her mind that this is madness, before the hand hidden inside the younger woman's shorts finds a new and rather more wicked place to tease.

"Put your drink down, you're spilling it on me."

The Mayor orders breathlessly, meanwhile snatching Emma's glass away and sliding it precariously onto the coffee table herself, before she closes her eyes and makes a quiet choked sound in the back of her throat when the blonde follows the trail of spilt alcohol glistening down her sternum with her tongue.

"Fuck!"

She utters from between clenched teeth, and the Sheriff is undecided whether such a word spoken from the lips of the queen amuses her or turns her on all the more.

_A little of both..._

Yelping in surprise as the Mayor's previous teasing takes on blissful intent, she tenses up to stop the brunette from succeeding in her subsequent attempt to flip them. Chuckling huskily under her breath at the infuriated snarl her resistance rewards her with, she hums teasingly as Regina's retribution of entering her a little more roughly does little to coerce her into playing nicely.

"Bitch."

The brunette hisses, although she does so with a moan of appreciation; not usually liking having her wishes denied, but relishing the audacity in Emma's refusal to bend to her whims.

 _But then, she always_  had _made a habit of such bad behaviour._

Swallowing a cry as the younger woman seems set on proving her point by dipping her own fingers slyly into the tight confines of her skirt, Regina eventually yields and gives up trying to dominate the situation in favour of opening her legs just a little wider to allow the blonde better access.

The grin she feels burning against her mouth at this act has her biting smirking lips punishingly, and she chuckles between pants of pleasure as a breathless flurry of explatives accompany the blonde jolting against her in surprise.

The younger woman's retribution is swift, hard and fast, and the Mayor breathes quiet sounds of ecstasy into thick curls as she flies over the edge; increasing the ferocity of her own affections to send Emma falling over the brink alongside her.

Slender limbs tense and then loosen, and the blonde remains slumped on top of the darker woman heavily as Regina's laboured gasps for air tickle her cheek.

"Fuck..."

Emma sighs eventually, quoting the brunette's earlier thoughts as she falls back onto the sofa in a heap beside the Queen.

"That was... Unexpected."

Regina muses woodenly, and the younger woman nods as she pushes her hair out of her face; slightly damp with perspiration.

"Yeah..."

She agrees awkwardly, before turning to the Mayor and continuing slowly

"...  _Was_  it, though?"

"... I suppose not entirely."

The brunette replies eventually, her brow furrowed uncertainly. Nodding, and looking from their well-used glasses on the table to the suggestive chaos if the darker woman's ordinarily flawless waves, Emma murmurs quietly

"I guess the _main_  question is... Do we do it more often?"


End file.
